Battle Royale 1987 The War of The 10th Dictator
by Sir Geroff of the Wind
Summary: Basically this is story based in the same world as the famed anime Battle Royale. Although it's based a decade before the events of those in the original book. It's based on the war in that current period as well as the current program.
1. Junei's Awakening

Author's Note: This is based on the Imperialist Empire, and Republic of Greater East Asia previous war in the same world that Battle Royale takes place. But this precedes the events of the "program" that involving Shuya, Shogo, and Noriko. All comments are welcome. Thank you reading this, this is my first story on fanfiction, and I hope it isn't my last. Thank you.

* * *

The incoming artillery shells, drowned out the sounds of screaming men, as they shrieked far above in the skies, raining upon the battered trenches, of the Imperialist American Empire. The deafening roar of shell after shell firing off from the chambers of so many guns, echoed all around. Hakashita Junei, tilted his helmet down with his left hand, while his other held his shotgun. He was preparing to leave the trenches for the hell that lay burning outside of it. Fingering some more rounds into his barrel, he quickly gazed around the fringes of the trench, searching out members of the American suicide corps. 

After all the American's had been known for training elitist soldiers. Stories told that many of these individuals would often blow themselves up, or charge into the enemy fray to their deaths, no matter how great the odds. One had to be careful, or they could wind up the next victim of these men, or... women. Junei frowned, as sweat dripped down his forehead, in drops, as he thought of the concept of an army with women in it. Hmph, an army with women? How could such a thing be allowed! If the Republic of Greater East Asia, tried such an idea who knows what would happen, with the women bickering, and fighting over the simplest things from what to wear, to who knows what.

Junei grinned, as his mind came back to reality. He gripped his shotgun tightly now, his left hand gripping the smooth steel barrel, while his right held the trigger readily. 1...2...3!

"Yaaaaaghhh!" Hakashita Junei, climbed out of the trench and charged out toward the enemy lines, his shot gun spewing bullets into the enemy, as fast as he could pull the pump back. Behind him several of his comrades, joined his charge and supported him, with their own shotguns.

Junei pushed himself even harder, toward the enemy, as he heard the machine guns of the imperialist army, stop their clattering fire, than begin again, only this time the hail of lead they pelted was toward him and his charge.

Soon the screams around him grew louder and louder, as those following him either collapsed, in their own blood, or screamed in agony as they realized they were missing limbs. To his own dismay Junei, was winged by a bullet across his helm, and he dropped, against a nearby tree.

What...What is this? He gazed around now, no longer pumped up with the adrenaline rush he had had only minutes ago. No longer unaware of the death around him. His nostrils breathed in the changed air. The thick stench of the dead and dying, and the blood enveloped the field. As his eye's opened to the devastation that lay around him, Junei's head fell back upon something wet and sticky. He flinched and turned around. He struggled to hold back his bowels as he almost puked, from the sight of headless body, with blood-covered entrails spilling out of it's neck, and drenched in crimson blood.

"Oh...my...God." The pure realization of what he was staring at silenced him after those last three words.


	2. Program No 9

Author's Note: This chapter proceed on to introduce the other characters in this story. Feel free to leave reviews, as i said before this is only my first story, so everything is appreciated.

* * *

Government Internal Memo 1997, No.

00026391 (Top Secret)

Dispatched by Central Authority

Secretariat Special Task Force Defense

Supervisor and Battle Experiment

Advisor of the Special Defense Army

To: Supervisor in charge of No. 9

1987 Battle Experiment No. 59 Program

(December 6, 14:39)

The preparations of this year's No. 12 program have been completed. The 2nd year class of Takashima High School, in the Kobe Prefecture has been picked for this year's experiment. The participants will be brought to the location on December 9th. All incidents, accidents, or unwanted situations that occur, you are responsible for No. 9. Proceed with extreme caution, concerning the incident that occurred in the last experiment.

Furthermore, all contents of this memo are to be treated as top secret information, and taken care of as such. All failures to do this, will be punished accordingly.

* * *

Looking up from the clean white sheet, that lay against his oak desk, Tamagawa Ryohei, frowned sourly. Bitterness engulfed his mind, after reading that last bit in the memo. If it wasn't for the last program 4 years ago, then Ryohei might not have been in charge with the next "delicate," one, and maybe his superior Nakatoki Hoban might still be dealing with the dangerous cases. He furrowed his eyebrows and contorted his face in a deeper frown. If it hadn't been for Nakatoki's failure to stop the bullets that penetrated his heart when, Shinji, the last winner of the program shot him, he wouldn't be stuck in this damning position. But then again he had to give a bit of sympathy to his last superior, after all who could stop a bullet racing at you, only meters away from your heart.

Awakening into reality again, supervisor No. 9, gazed around his conservative white office. Where was that bastard when you need him? Where was Sakamochi when you need him?

"Damn it! Sakamochi get your ass in here!" Shouted Ryohei, as he slammed his fist down on the polished surface of his oak desk.

The tapping of hurried steps could be heard not far away outside the office, as Sakamochi Kinpatsu, Ryohei's slow, and somewhat pudgy aide hastened into the room.

"Ya-yes sir. What do you need Mr. Ryohei sir?"

The blush that slowly appeared on Sakamochi's face, made him look much, much younger than he actually was. Especially the way he addressed his superior with such nervous glances, and hesitant responses. But then again, maybe the man couldn't help it, after all he was 25, and a man still unable to get anywhere above the post of Head Clerk of the Special Defense Force Mailing Department.

"Sakamochi, I need you to do something for me,' Tamagawa Ryohei, grinned, as Sakamochi gulped at the request, 'I want you to grab Sergeant Hisei, and his division, and have them transported upon the soonest ship to the location. Do you understand Sakamochi?"

Nervously Sakamochi nodded, and replied, with a murmured, "yes sir." Seeing that his superior was gazing back at the paperwork upon his desk, Sakamochi, hurried out of the office, to his next job.

Damn, apparently this years program was going to have to be a lot harder to control, considering the number of Imperialist American agents noted by SDF Intelligence to be located in the program's staff. Ryohei shook his head slowly, he sure as hell wasn't going to let himself be one of the casualties of this years grand "spectacle," like his slow-witted predecessor.

* * *

Fujiwara Hasebei (Male Student No. 8) glared, at the great orb of gold high above him. His head rested against the shiny window, aboard the prefectural-government provided school bus. This wasn't exactly the perfect day to be going on a trip to the local forest. Especially with the mass amount of finals coming up, Hasebei just couldn't bring himself to think about wildlife, picnics, and indigenous plants, when he had so much studying to do when he got back home.

Again he bumped his head against the window's face. Why did the Takashima High School 2nd year picnic have to be on a disorganized, and tiring day like this? Why?

Looking around the bus he stared at Minamoto Keiko, the one true girl he had been searching for his life. The smooth black hair that cascaded down her face, just seemed to make him smile. And the semi-oval face that held her beautiful complexions just seemed, so cute to him. He smiled and remembered on the day when they had met. It had been at their 1st year picnic only last year. While Hasebei was viewing the August cherry blossoms, he had turned to grab more tea, but instead walked into Keiko. After several brief apologies, she had mentioned that she was on her way to refill her cup as well. And so they walked back to the picnic area, and chatted warmly, to their delight.

"Ow! What was that?" A knock on Hasebei's head soon brought him back to reality. He quickly gazed around trying to find the miserable cretin that had hit him.

Instead he found no one. Because there was no one. Amazed he blinked his eyes and stared around again. Absolutely no one. Impossible. As he got out of his cushioned seat aboard the bus, he heard a sharp crack, as a the side of a Walther 7.65 mm pistol whipped him in the back of his head. He immediately stumbled forward, and lay knocked out cold against the floor. The Special Defense Force soldier behind him grinning pistol in hand, and radio in the other.

"Advisor Tamagawa, the last participant is ready for transportation, to the location."


	3. The Game Begins

Author's Note: The story is moving a bit slow, but don't worry there will be tons of fighting soon enough!

* * *

"Ugh."

When Honda Kaito (Male Student No. 12) woke, his body was shivering, and his thin polyester school coat barely managed to keep him warm. Only an hour ago he had awoken lying across the pure white snow, with a small black backpack set next to him. After searching through the bag's contents, he had found a small Sanyo radio, 3 full water bottles, a pack of dull-tasting buns, - Kaito had tried some - a map of what appeared to be a island he was on, a thick wool jacket, - which he had pulled on immediately - and a bulky old-style cell phone.

Unaware of the situation that enveloped poor Kaito, Kaito got up to gather small branches, and sticks from nearby trees to make fires, but instead was astounded by the loud beeping sound that tore through the air, from a great distance.

"Hello students of Takashima High School! I am Tamagawa Ryohei, and I am going to keep you updated on the event you'll be participating in. Oh did I forget to say that this year you lucky students have been chosen for the governments renowned "Program? Well-"

Kaito froze at that last word, as the message continued on without his notice. Th-The "Program," but how? He remembered looking back from news bulletins on television, all the reports of lone students coming out of military statistic's event's called the, "Program." Looking back he remembered the part of one report. "...Nobu Hyogi, winner of this year's Program. After careful examination, 5 bodies have bee found dead of strangulation, 14 of throats being slit, 12 of gun shot wounds, 5 of drowning, and 4 of beheading..."

The memory still sent fear into his heart. His heart beat slowly steadied as he drew back into reality, now his ears could again here the last parts of the ongoing message.

"Well as I said earlier, all of you have been given a map of the island so you know which areas you may be in, for the time being. And which areas are forbidden for the day, so that you may not be missing your head abruptly. Also as I mentioned earlier you have all received supplies in you packs, and a randomly inserted weapon to use against your enemies...(a brief pause)... Now good luck to all of you out there! And let the games...BEGIN! Oh, and don't forget the objective is to survive, but most of all to...KILL, KILL KILL!" At those words Mr. Tamagawa, sounded a bit overly excited.

Honda Kaito gulped, and broke into a sweat, as the message stopped. His hand went uneasily, and nervously to the phone, that he had received in his pack. Is this the weapon he had been given? But..but this isn't a weapon...or is it?

Gripping the phone, hesitantly, and pulled the pack over his shoulders Kaito rushed deeper into the snow-laden forest, searching for a way out. His trail of footprints soon disappeared, as they were covered by those of another black school uniform clad figure.

* * *

Tamagawa Ryohei smiled, as he flipped the switch to turn off the island-wide intercom, and turned to his nervous-faced aide Kinpatsu Sakamochi. A wide grin was on his face, as he spoke to Sakamochi in pure glee.

"Sakamochi! We've done it! We've begun the 9th Program with absolutely no problems, unlike my predecessor! Well Sakamochi I want you to look into the matters concerning Sgt. Hisei, and any problems he may have with the security equipment. Also I expect you to monitor the participants constantly, in case you may have to take over anytime soon. Now go!"

Still grinning, the advisor of Program No. 9, turned away toward the paperwork upon his desk, as Sakamochi hurriedly left his room, closing the door to his office with a soft clicking sound. Slowly sitting down upon his leather office chair, Ryohei clasped his hands together and tapped a button on the right side of his desk. As the button popped back up from his finger's pressure, the surface of the center of his desk, pulled back to reveal a hidden computer screen, and interface.

The screen with in his desk suddenly flashed on with a cascade of bright light. Ryohei tapped a yellow button labeled, "Forest Camera F-2," as the screen flashed again, and changed screens. Now the screen revealed a scene located deep inside the snowy forests of the eastern tip of the island. A black sailor-suit attired girl appeared with her back to the camera, in her hand lay a long cleaver, and in her other she held the hair of a bodiless head. She then abruptly turned toward the camera's lens, and grinned, as blood lay splattered across her face, and what seemed to be the tip of a large intestine protruding from her mouth.

Ryohei grimaced at first, then relaxed as his right hand slipped from the table, to feel the Luger, strapped to his left shoulder. His face seemed dull afterwards, as he flipped through several other channels.


	4. The First Casualty

**Glossary of the Characters**

**Hakashita Junei - **A young private, in the Republic of Greater East Asia's, Ministry of Defense International Defense Force. He realizes the consequences of war, as he steps onto the snow-laden battlefields of the, War of the 10th Dictator.

**Tamagawa Ryohei - **The Advisor of program No. 9, who hopes to have a successful, and absolutely no government casualty program this year, unlike his predecessor's.

**Kinpatsu Sakamochi - **Ryohei's nervous 30-something year old aide. He fears his senior's temper, but hopes to one day go above his seemingly trivial current position.

**Nakatoki Hoban** - Tamagawa Ryohei's previous superior. Was killed in a "mysterious," accident on Island #92048-990, the previous year, during an attemped escape.

**Students of Takashima High School:**

**Fukuyo Ryoki - **(Female Student No. 11) A young 16 year old girl with a plain face, flat nose, and longdyed bright brown hairfrom Takashima High School, in Japan. She despises perverts, and strangely behaved individuals.

**Honda Kaito** - (Male Student No. 12) A young 15 year old boy, with shoulder-length black hair, and a tall individual; who carries around a mysterious old-style cell phone as a weapon.

**Fujiwara Hasebei** - (Male Student No. 8) A 16 year old boy, with short black hair, and of medium height; he is the last to be removed from his school bus, for this year's "program."

**Hojo Yui** - (Male Student No. 5) An overweight, 15 year old boy, with the brain capacity of a 10 year old. He was reported to be a major pervert, with several sexual infractions of his school record.

* * *

Fukuyo Ryoki (Female Student No. 11) grinned, as she licked the blood off of her hands. She absolutely delighted in the taste of fresh blood, and entrails, in such a gloomy, but fascinating way. In her other hand she held the replica MP40, that she had only found a day earlier, from within her pack. 

A very round, and obviously, diabetic figure lay sprawled on the ground next to her. (Male Student No. 5) Hojo Yui, had died only minutes earlier, while going to take a leak, in a nearby bush. But he his life had come to an end only a few steps away from there, as he had tried to escape Ryoki, as she chased after him with her MP40.

Currently his figure, lay dripping warm, fresh blood, into the pool of ichor and entrails that had amassed and enveloped his body.

Ryoki, didn't much like Hojo Yui. After all he was one of those perverted fat kids, who tried to stare up girls skirts. And to Ryoki that was just plain disgusting, first of all, Ryoki hated those sluts, that let fat boys stare up their skirts. And second of all she hated disgusting minded overweight losers. Personally, she didn't like to be mean to people who were, "slightly" beyond the amount of weight their breaches could hold, but in Hojo Yui's case, it was different.

To her killing the rat seemed like revenge enough for all his perverted acts. And besides that who knows what he would've done to other girls had he got his hands on them, before killing them. Basically she was, a "hero" for killing the plague, before it could effect other innocent girls.

Turning around to Yui's back pack, Ryoki, wiped her hands off quickly against the snow-covered grass, leaving two wet, crimson palm prints against the ground. Quickly she unzipped the pack as if opening the body bag of a loved one for the first time. Inside she found 2 water bottles, - one still sealed, and the other only half-drunk - a Bowie knife, 3 dull tasting white buns, and another map of the island. Finding no use for the map she used it as fuel when she set up her fire against the darkness of the night. Although with the Bowie Knife she strapped that in it's leather case to her shoulder.

Looking down again, at Hojo Yui's body, she still felt no remorse. Instead she brought up her MP40 again, and fired 2 shots, into Yui's already pale, white face. His head exploded in an outburst of blood, white fragments of skull, and gooey leftovers of a gray brain. Satisfied with her work Ryoki, got up and walked back toward the fire she had set up, and sat down comfortably, in front of it, to warm her hands, against the cold winter winds.

* * *

Far away on another snow-laden field, lay Hakashita Junei, his face masked in a snarl, as he watched the current scene. His grime-covered shotgun rested on the muddy snow to his side, as his hands held his military-issue binoculars up to his eyes, to gaze into the distance. The loud buzzing of auto cannon fire still irritated him, as he looked, although the artillery fire from the battle's advent, had died down hours ago. 

From where Junei, lay, he could see several Imperialist American soldier's peeking out of the trenches parallel to the RGEA's trenches. Their bright yellow, turtle-shell shaped helmets, even shone slightly bright, against the little light that the moon provided from the skies. Several of them seem to be carrying some sort of foreign issue long rifle. Each one firing someone in the proximity of Junei, considering that every time one fired, he could hear the striking sound, as the bullet crashed into the terrain around him.

Again, Junei turned the view of the binoculars to the left, this time, he noticed a group of enemy soldiers crawling out of the trench, rifles in hand. His right hand dropped from the grip of the binoculars and quickly, and quietly brought his shot gun to view, in front of him. Remember that the gun had already been pumped previously before he had hid, he leveled the barrel with his sight, and aimed at the foremost soldier's bright yellow helmet.

Closer...closer...closer...bang..

The American soldier slumped, forward and crashed into the ground, as a gigantic ragged hole formed in his helmet. The helmet than slowly rolled away, revealing, the torn up red and white skull under it. Fragments of white bone, and a puddle of thick syrupy blood slowly drained out of the man's skull, like a waterfall.

Now, Junei, pumped his gun. The loud click of the gun's reloading mechanism, immediately alerted the rest of the dead soldier's comrades to his location. And telling from the hail of lead crashing into the snow and rocks near him, they weren't quite happy with the fate of their fellow. Unable to fire, Junei, turned to his left and right staring around for another suitable spot to rush to, for better protection. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly jumped up, and ran crouching toward a nearby set of medium-size boulders.

"Ugh...," uttered Junei, as a speeding, bullet cut through his lower right leg. Unable to continue to run, he crashed to the ground, his shot gun still lay in his hands, as his protected head slammed into a nearby rock. Desperately he dragged himself to the nearest rock, and pulled his leg up to check the blood loss. Watery red blood, poured onto the muddy snow. Reaching forward, to apply pressure on his lower leg, he suddenly felt another horrible pang of pain.

"Ahhh!" He yelped, as the little finger on his left hand exploded in another burst of blood, and skin.

Still filled with shock, he moved his left hand in front of his face in disbelief. His grime-covered face suddenly became pale, and he screamed for minutes, as he realized how bad his state had become. Sweat dribbled down his brow, as he became unaware of his surroundings.

He didn't stop until the cold icy feel of polished steel crashed through his skin, and penetrated his arm. For a few seconds his screaming stopped, and he stared at his arm. More immense amounts of blood dribbled down the combat knife's edge, as it with drew from his arm, and came back up. Gazing up, he suddenly became silent, and his eyes became wide, as the knife traveled down again, toward his chest.

I..I am gone...take me... oh angel of death...


	5. Surprise On A Lighter Note

Government Internal Memo 1997, No.

00026406 (Top Secret)

Dispatched by Central Authority

Secretariat Special Task Force Defense

Supervisor and Battle Experiment

Advisor of the Special Defense Army

To: Supervisor in charge of No. 9

1987 Battle Experiment No. 59 Program

(December 22, 14:52)

We are glad to find that the preparations have gone well Supervisor of No. 9. Continue to do well and you will find nothing to be unhappy about. But if you are indifferent to failure like your predecessor before you, you will realize the consequences of failure. There are no exceptions.

Unfortunately though one problem is bothering us, especially the dictator himself. We greatly request that you speed up the process of the program considering that still than less of the participants have been eliminated. Recommendations to accelerate the program are being made by our analysts currently. We suggest that either you listen to those, are find another way, or else we may have to change our decisions considering your position in this program.

* * *

Tamagawa Ryohei, gulped and reached to loosen his crimson red tie. One problem about being the superior of the program, he had realized over time, was that with great responsibilities, came great consequences. And in his case that meant if more deaths didn't happen soon, then the death of someone not in the program would happen soon, namely his.

His head twitched slightly, as he reached for the next pile of papers across his desk. So many days of going with no sleep, and rest had caused Ryohei to come down with a case of twitches, and jitters. Thinking that the government memo could be the worst of his problems, he placed the carbon copy to his side, and began tearing through the next pile of papers like a wild animal. Pretty much he didn't care about anything, except those that were essential to his well-being, and his life, namely government issues.

"Whoa!" Ryohei exclaimed, as his eyes set upon another document, halfway through the pile.

Quickly, his eyes scanned the paper in front of him. The contents of the memo surprised him, considerably. In fact what the document concluded in seemed completely preposterous or at least ill-thought of. Then abruptly advisor No. 9's head wrenched upwards, as a light knock resounded against his door and the door opened.

In strode Kinpatsu Sakamochi, newly promoted assistant to the grand advisor of the interior. Something's seemed completely different and strange from how Sakamochi normally was. In fact he walked into the office confident, without a single trip, or clumsy fall. And besides that his face held a warm look, with a big grin, which was altogether different from the normal aide.

"Mr. Ryohei, I was glad to be of service under your advisory, rest assured I'll do the same under the grand advisor's supervision. Thank you so much for the recommendation to serve the head of the interior, sir!" Sakamochi's slightly rotund body, bowed to show his great appreciation.

On the other hand, Ryohei fell back in his chair, and feigned a congratulatory smile back at his former aide. To complete his response the program advisor stuck out a hand to show his happiness with his subordinate's promotion.

Sakamochi took Ryohei's hand, and pumped it vigorously. And then bowed again, and left quickly from the office.

For a moment advisor No. 9 lay consulting the situation that had just unfolded before him, then his mind moved on and analyzed what Kinpatsu had meant by a "recommendation." It was impossible for him to of recommended Sakamochi he concluded, so who could have done it? This was one thing that he'd have to think for awhile on.

* * *

I'm sorry that the chapter was so brief, but I saving up my ideas really for the next chapter. You may wonder what ever happened to the war? Well surprise next chapter. 


End file.
